


hazed

by Clown_Teeth



Category: Murderdolls (Band)
Genre: Drugs, Eventual Smut, Gay, M/M, Male Solo, Other, PWP, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, RPF, References to Drugs, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Teeth/pseuds/Clown_Teeth
Summary: Eric made his way over to one of the benches, taking a seat. He folded his arms over his chest, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes. He just needed to take a couple breaths, steady his mind, get a grip on reality…Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.Despite his attempts to ground himself, his mind began to wander. He thought back to the show, looking into the crowd and seeing all the fans. He remembered seeing a girl flash her tits to them. It wasn't unusual, but he didn't know why he was thinking of it now.Then he remembered sitting in the cab with Joey, their thighs bumping against each others'. The way Joey held his hair out of his face when Eric had leaned down to do a line… He felt like a teenager, the way it made his thighs twitch. He wanted to blame it on the coke.
Relationships: Eric Griffin/Joey Jordison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	hazed

The room was spinning - or, he supposed, the hallway. Eric couldn't really tell where he was anymore. He had wandered out to take a piss, or maybe grab a beer, he couldn't remember. Somehow on the way back he got lost.

After a couple of seconds of trying to focus his eyes, he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was on the bus; he didn't know why, considering he had been in his hotel room. At least, that's where he remembered he'd been. And if his memory was correct, the tour bus was in the parking garage. So how'd he end up here?

He groaned, reaching up to rub his eyes with his palms. Think, Eric, think. He remembered the show, going out, getting drunk. Yeah, that sounded right.

Where was he next?

The backseat of a taxi. Joey was there, so was Ben. Where the fuck did Weds go?

He reached up to rub his throat, swallowing instinctively. He could feel his throat move under his hand, but he couldn't feel the spit going down his throat. He tried to focus on the taxi ride.

Joey pulling out coke. Right. It never was too much of Eric's thing but he was too wasted to think of reasons not to. Alright, so that explained why he couldn't feel his throat.

He sighed, pushing his hair away from his forehead. He was sweating. Everyone was probably waiting at the hotel, wondering where he was. If they were sober enough to realize he left, at least. He should probably head back, but he honestly felt like he'd pass out if he didn't sit down.

Eric made his way over to one of the benches, taking a seat. He folded his arms over his chest, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes. He just needed to take a couple of breaths, steady his mind, get a grip on reality…

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Despite his attempts to ground himself, his mind began to wander. He thought back to the show, looking into the crowd and seeing all the fans. He remembered seeing a girl flash her tits to them. It wasn't unusual, but he didn't know why he was thinking of it now.

Then he remembered sitting in the cab with Joey, their thighs bumping against each others'. The way Joey held his hair out of his face when Eric had leaned down to do a line… He felt like a teenager, the way it made his thighs twitch. He wanted to blame it on the coke.

He licked his lips, trying to avoid the thought of Joey. He pushed his mind back to the girl in the crowd, the way her breasts bounced as she jumped up and down, the lights gleaming off the sweat on her skin.

In his thoughts, he was watching Joey again. The lights shined off his skin the same it did to hers… What the fuck was happening to him?

Eric sighed, running his palms down the front of his jeans, his fingers getting caught on the rips in them. He let his fingertips run along the skin that showed through them, watching the goosebumps rise wherever he touched. He took a ragged breath, feeling his cock twitch in his pants.

No, no, he was not about to jack off on the tour bus.

He stood up quickly, wiping his sweaty palms on his shirt. He stumbled slightly, but caught himself on the table before he fell. He felt like his head was going to explode.

He started walking to the door, leaning against the wall for support the entire way there. He just needed to get back to his room, take a cool shower, and get some sleep.

But yet, he couldn't stop thinking about the brief moment when Joey's fingers grazed his neck while pushing his hair out of the way, how he held his shoulder to steady him as he leaned forward.

Eric whimpered, turning and pressing his chest flush against the wall. He let the side of his face rest against it, the cool temperature a relief against his hot cheeks. He could feel his sweat drip onto his lips.

He instinctively licked them, his sweat salty. "Please," he whispered, pressing his palms flat against the wall. " _Please._ "

He was hard, so fucking hard. He rocked his hips against the wall, desperate for some type of friction; some kind of pressure.

He turned his head, letting his forehead rest against the wall now. He looked down his front, trying to pull himself together. His skin was tingling, his lower stomach felt like it was spinning into knots.

He whined, lowering his hand to cup his groin. He cursed, spinning around. Eric's back was against the wall now, his hips angling forward into his hand. He shouldn't be doing this; it felt wrong. He felt sick, knowing the only thing on his mind right now was Joey.

He could pretend he was thinking of that girl in the crowd, but he wasn't.

Eric's hands shook as he fumbled with his zipper, finally getting a grip on it and yanking it down forcefully. He didn't waste time pulling his cock out and spitting in his hand, whimpering when he finally got his hands around himself.

He screwed his eyes shut, already stroking his dick at a quick rhythm, not wanting to be on the bus for long. He wasn't in the mood to tease himself tonight. His breath shook and he started bucking into his hand.

Eric thought about the little compact mirror in Joey's lap, the lines laid out on it. How Joey grabbed his head and pulled him forward, how he blushed when he came face level with his crotch. Joey's hands in his hair, Joey's hands on his neck, Joey's hands on his shoulders, Joey, Joey, Joey.

He gasped, his hand moving quicker now. He could feel precum dripping down his tip, over his fingers. He whined, his breathing quick and ragged. "F-fuck… please," he stuttered out, his begs filling the empty room; there was no one there to hear them.

He whined again, his stomach turning in circles. He felt like he was going to pass out. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, his breath now coming out in short, high-pitched gasps.

Eric leaned forward, extending his arm to hold himself up with the wall across from him, his lower back still against the wall behind him. He fucked his hand, quickening his pace. "Oh my god… fuck, f-fuck," he was practically crying at this point. " _Ohmyfuckinggod_ -"

He let himself fall back against the wall again, now using his hand to twist his hair around his fingers. He moaned loudly, not bothering to try and hold back anymore. He grabbed a handful of his hair, giving it a sharp tug. Gasping, his hips jerked forward. He felt like he was going to cum right then and there.

"Hmmmmnnnggg… god-" he whined out, dropping his hand from his hair to his balls, squeezing them. He lightly pinched his tip, feeling his lower abdomen clench as he got closer.

Closer, closer, closer, almost fucking there…

Eric felt like he was going to burst. He was groaning, twisting his wrist and swiping his thumb over his tip. He could feel his nerves tensing, stretching like rubber bands. "Fuck, fuck… _fuckfuckfuck_ -" he cried, his head slamming back against the wall in frustration, his eyes shut so tight it hurt.

And he finally fucking came.

He thought he was blacking out, his thighs twitching as every nerve ending in his body feeling like they were snapping and twisting around each other. He could feel his cum dripping down his fingers, sticky and hot. He dared to open his eyes, and was briefly blinded by the ceiling lights.

He groaned, wiping the sticky mess on his pants before tucking himself away. Eric didn't think he'd ever sobered up quicker.

He made his way to the tiny bathroom in the back of the bus, feeling guilty about jacking off to the thought of his friend. Not that he'd ever know, but it still made him feel… sick, in a way. He turned on the sink, washing away the evidence of his actions, trying to give himself reasons not to feel like a total perv.

He couldn't really think of any.

Sighing, he left the bathroom. After one last look around to make sure he didn't leave anything behind, he turned off all the lights, locked the door to the bus, and made his way out of the garage. Maybe he'd feel better after he got some sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hey uhhh.... just a fever haze porn I wrote. Eric just really wants joey to blow him, poor guy, lol


End file.
